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“You have a good heart, Vincent, but I fear your pride and your temper will lead you headlong into trouble—it is a truly volatile combination.”
Associate Dean Leonidas’s words hadn’t really made that much sense to young warlock—not until now.
Vincent had seen the sneak attack coming out of the corner of his eye; the enemy warlock who had been following them for days had now, finally, decided to make his move, hurling a sphere of dark magic at him.
And Vincent, his pride and anger coming together like a magical nitroglycerine, silently vowed that their assailant would regret it.
Shoving Voudini and Boris out of the way, Vincent deftly dodged the attack himself; the assailant was now running towards him with an enchanted blade drawn, no doubt overestimating Vincent’s power on account of his youth.
“Fool,” Vincent snarked. A green aura surrounded him as adrenaline coursed through the young warlock’s body, amplifying his power further.
He aimed his left hand, calling upon the most powerful spell he knew—that would teach this assailant a lesson he would never forget as he’d got blasted into the Styx.
“ULTIMA!”
But the smirk on his face faded, however, as the concentrated sphere of energy that shot from his hand was several times larger than he had anticipated on account of his rage boosting the attack. Smug confidence was quickly replaced by shock and terror as he realized he couldn’t control his attack.
The assailant stopped in his tracks, a look of terror growing on his face, as well, as he retreated from the growing sphere of destruction that was still growing, vaporizing anything in its path—including the very mountain they were standing on.
Voudini had grabbed Boris and teleported, and Vincent now did the same, reappearing and using a levitation spell to float above the scene of destruction down below. The assailant had opted for tumbling down the slope of the mountain—a painful and ungainly escape, but a fate that was significantly better than being caught in the spell’s sphere of destruction. Animals and creatures of all kinds were scrambling to get away from the blast radius, as well.
After what seemed like an eternity, the spell dissipated, leaving a gigantic gouge in the mountain’s peak; the internal curve of the mountain now gleamed with igneous rock, melted from the heat and energy of Vincent’s errant spell.
Slowly, Vincent lowered himself down to the damaged part of the mountain, staring in speechless horror as Voudini and Boris teleported back to his side.
“Oh, Vincent…” Voudini said, equally horrified. “What have you done!?”
Vincent looked away from the destruction, now staring at his left hand, which had done the deed.
“I… I didn’t mean to…! I didn’t expect…!”
He trailed off, still staring at his left hand. It all made sense now—all the whispers about him being descended from Asmodeus, the fear that others had on account of his powers surpassing that of his ancestor, the Associate Dean’s worried warning…
They had all been justified fears, he realized.
He was on the verge of becoming another monster.